Blunt Force Trauma
by Cynical Gaze
Summary: Commander Shepard never thought that a simple shakedown run would turn into something so complicated, and bring the weight of the entire galaxy down on his shoulders. Male Shepard.
1. Prologue

_I shall try to keep this short._

_This started as a short foray into Mass Effect world to take a break from my other writing, but turned out it wanted to become longer than I expected, so it became a full story._

_It may be a novelization of the game, but there will be quite a few deviations from storyline, added original characters and most certainly as little of game dialogue as possible. I don't really see the point in rehashing the familiar game dialogue._

_Constructive criticism is most welcome, as is your opinion on the story. Please, whatever you feel about my story feel free to let me know. Reviews are always appreciated._

_I hope reading it gives you as much enjoyment as writing it gives me._

* * *

"Let's talk about Shepard, gentlemen."

Captain David Anderson interlaced his fingers on the tabletop with an air of finality.

"The Spectre Nihlus Kryik personally recommended him, and I fully back him up."

"Yes, I know," Udina said, glancing at Hackett. "That is why I looked into this Commander Shepard, and what I found greatly disturbs me."

He thumbed his small PDA, glancing at something on the small screen.

"I have the Commander's evaluation here," he began triumphantly, eliciting a mental groan from Anderson. "Dorian Shepard, N7 Special Operations and Reconnaissance, very powerful biotic. Extremely successful as far as his military operations go, but highly spotted service record. Earthborn, no known parents. Most known for being instrumental for the spectacular victory over Batarians in the Alliance attack on Torfan in 2178."

He paused, to give Anderson and Hackett a pointed glance.

"This, so-called 'Butcher of Torfan' is responsible for the deaths of most of his unit on that mission, unnecessary cruelty to the surrendering enemy and completely irrational behaviour. "

"He is also responsible for one of our greatest tactical victories, rooting out the Batarians at Torfan and pushing them back from Citadel space. You can't deny he got the job done beyond the call of duty."

"Those bastards had it coming after what they tried to do on Elysium," Hackett added grimly.

"Beyond the call of duty indeed!" Udina persisted. "The psychiatrist who did the post-mission evaluation's report states that he is 'grossly difficult to work with and unwilling to cooperate', and 'exhibits manipulative behaviour'."

"He is N7, almost everyone in Special Forces is going to have some undesirable traits by nature of their work," Anderson defended. "You should have seen _my_ initial psych evaluations."

"We are talking about a man known by such colourful names as Butcher of Torfan, and Shepard The Knife! It also goes on to state he is unpredictable in his actions and extremely dangerous, a hazard to those around him," Udina paused dramatically to look at Hackett and Anderson, then repeating the word with a warning finger. "A hazard! Is this really the kind of man we want protecting the galaxy?"

"That's the _only_ kind of man we want protecting the galaxy," Anderson rebutted coldly.

"Really? A few more select adjectives from the report for you," Udina continued assertively, pointedly reading off from his PDA. "Antisocial, pronounced negative bias towards alien species, complete disregard for human life, sociopathic personality...need I go on?"

Anderson forced a tight smile.

"I'm sure that report was exaggerated somewhat, not to mention it's an _old_ report. Shepard has been cleared as physically and mentally fit for duty in the recent routine evaluation. I've known and worked with him for a long time, and I can personally attest to his abilities and loyalty. While it's true that he's somewhat rough around the edges, he _never_ disobeys an order, and he _always_ gets the job done."

Hackett was silent for the moment, just glancing from one to the other, watching, waiting.

"Yes, but at what price?" Udina said sharply. "Far too much than what we should be willing to pay!"

He glanced at Hackett for moral support, but the Admiral just watched him with that unreadable, calculating look of his.

"Shepard always puts the mission first," Anderson began, dramatically. "And while concern for lives is admirable, we need to be realistic about this, gentlemen. Good leader needs to be willing to sacrifice his men for the greater good, needs to be able to make tough decisions and not get sidetracked. Shepard has proven himself capable in that regard, more than capable, I'd say."

Udina sat back in his chair forcefully, crossing his arms in silent disagreement.

"That's all well and good, Anderson," Hackett waved his hand dismissively. "All well and good, but the problem is if he becomes a Spectre every little dark spot in his service record suddenly becomes a huge black mark. And we both know Shepard has had more than his share of little dark spots."

"And all that even before we consider his _criminal background_!" Udina spat defiantly. "He was involved in gang and organized crime before signing up with the Alliance-"

"That's all in his past," Hackett interrupted pointedly, and with some annoyance. "Many of our best men come from troubled backgrounds. The service straightens them out, though, makes decent people out of them."

Udina leaned in over the table.

"Are you so sure of that, Admiral?" he glanced at calm Anderson meaningfully. "Are we seriously considering this disturbed, unstable individual before all the much more suitable and respectable names in this list?" he pressed one dark finger against the table in emphasis. "Before Lieutenant Merrick?"

Hackett made a face.

"I don't think that's a good idea, really. Merrick is good at following orders, but that's about _all_ he is good at. We need someone with a little more...initiative."

Udina was incredulous.

"Lieutenant Merrick has served in the Alliance Navy for the past fifteen years with utmost merit. He has received several commendations for outstanding service and achievement. If anyone is deserving of the position, it is him!"

"With all due respect, Ambassador, I don't think you're fully qualified to make such a military decision," Anderson interposed.

"This is not a military decision, it should _not_ be a military decision! We need someone who can manoeuvre his way around the political theatre, not some trigger-happy space cowboy!"

"Now that's just-" Anderson began, but was cut off.

"The man is a walking catastrophe! If you put him in the position of such power, it will only get worse!"

"You are being irrational," Anderson was barely containing his temper now, his tone flat and low.

"_I_ am being irrational?" Udina was outraged. "You want to promote someone who is practically a war criminal to the position of a Spectre, and I am being irrational?"

"Gentlemen, let's keep this civil," Hackett warned, a tone of indisputable command in his voice. "Udina is right, this isn't an entirely military decision, but it's a lot more military than political. Anderson, I know you think highly of Shepard, but I'm not entirely convinced he is capable of handling _all_ the aspects of being a Spectre. There is a lot of diplomatic work involved in the position."

"Then ask yourself this, Admiral: Who would we rather have in that shiny Spectre chair, someone who's charming and knows the proper formal table setting, but can't quite cut it out in the field – _or_," here Udina gave a disgusted snort, which Anderson ignored. "Or, someone who isn't going to be anyone's darling at a dinner party, but who you can count on one-hundred percent will get the mission done, and won't let anything get in his way?"

"Someone who's both of those, preferably," Hackett quipped. "But I get what you're saying Anderson, and I agree. I'd much rather impress the aliens with our military might than our social skills. I'm just not convinced Shepard is the right man for the job."

"Military might will not get us any closer to a seat on the Council," Udina said unhappily, staring from under his brows. "You can't be serious. This isn't some fleet commander or military advisor, this is a _Spectre_ we are talking about – the very best of the best! Is Shepard _really_ the best humanity has to offer? We are in need of a scalpel, and all we can throw out there is the equivalent of a sledgehammer! Is that the kind of image we wish to project to the other races?"

"Shepard can be subtle," Anderson interposed. "He is an intelligent man with a lot of experience with aliens and undercover work. A good leader. He may have an unusual way of doing things sometimes, but his service record speaks for itself."

"Yes it does," Hackett said annoyedly. "He may be able to accomplish a mission against all odds, but he sure does a lot of collateral damage getting there. And that's even without considering any of the off-duty incidents."

"With all due respect, Admiral, I don't see how his private life has got anything to do with this," Anderson dismissed with a wave of his hand. "What Shepard does in his free time is his concern."

"Not anymore! The moment he takes the position, _everything _he does becomes the Council's concern! His every action will be scrutinized, and the entire humanity judged by it."

"Udina's right, Anderson," Hackett said pensively, keeping his calm. "We have to look at this from a wider angle. We can't afford any intergalactic incidents, not here and not now."

Udina was nodding along triumphantly.

"Well a Spectre already recommended Shepard, a _Turian_ Spectre, at that. If that's not a good start, then I don't know what is," Anderson reminded.

Hackett furrowed his brows in a gesture of discontent.

"I don't like this, Anderson. Why would a damn Turian recommend a _human_ to the Council?" he mulled on it for a moment. "It doesn't make any sense."

Ambassador Udina leaned back in his chair, nodding his head slowly, somberly.

"How convenient that his choice just happens to be the brutal, unpredictable Butcher of Torfan! Don't you see, Admiral? They are trying to make us look bad, by attempting to get someone instituted who they_ know _will embarrass us."

Hackett was watching him from under scoffed brows.

"It's not exactly like that, Ambassador," Anderson defended. "Turians respect strength, skill, and Shepard's got plenty of that. They respect ruthlessness. He's got a bit of that, too. And let's be honest, the first human Spectre is going to need every last bit of it."

Udina was shaking his head energetically in disagreement, dropping one hand to the table in frustration.

"You cannot in all seriousness nominate this man for such a sensitive position, especially when there are so many better suited candidates."

"None of them come recommended from a respectable Spectre," Anderson reminded again.

"None of them are known as the Butcher of Torfan," Udina rebutted acidly. "There is a very heavy baggage that comes with this man, and it is going to drag us all down along with him."

Hackett gave a wry smile, resting one forearm on the table with a forceful exhale.

"Bottom line, Anderson, he's a nutcase."

"With all due respect, Sir, he's not insane-"

"Now," Hackett raised a quick, annoyed hand. "I didn't say that. I didn't say insane, I said nutcase – that's not so bad in a way, we got plenty of those, doing jobs that need to be done. Dirty jobs," he leaned back in his seat slowly, straightening his arms against the table. "What I'm more worried about, is him being a biotic. Now a biotic nutcase, _that'_s a dangerous combination."

"And the fact that the eyes of the entire galaxy will be on him, on _us!_" Udina butted in, taking the opportunity to try and sway Hackett his way. "Are you really going to allow some..._psychotic_ like Shepard to ruin our only chance at equal stand in the Council? Too much is at stake here, Admiral."

Hackett made a weary grimace, bringing his hands up placatingly.

"You don't need to tell me, Udina. I know damn well what's at stake here. This is our one chance to get the foot in the door on the galactic level," he took a moment to glance at Anderson meaningfully. "That is why the long-term implications of this need to be thought through well."

"As far as I am concerned, the choice is obvious," Udina crossed his arms pointedly.

"Admiral, I've known Shepard for a long time now. I can assure you that as a biotic he is one hundred percent stable and reliable. Of all the bad things he's done, and many of those are greatly exaggerated, not one of them was without a good reason. He has never had a breakdown, and his control over his biotics is some of the best I've ever seen." Anderson said somberly. "There is really only one right choice here."

Anderson and Udina were silent now, both staring expectantly, tentatively at him.

Hackett rapped his knuckles against the wood restlessly, picking up the paper with the list of names and scowling at it for a long time, putting it back down and picking it up again. Finally he tossed the page back on the desk in irritation.

He glanced at Udina.

"Merrick is out of the question here. He may have many good qualities, he's a good soldier...but not a good leader. He is not suitable for a Spectre, in my opinion."

Udina already began to protest, but Hackett silenced him quickly with a raised hand.

"I see many names on this list, all competent soldiers, all good men excelling at what they do."

He paused to frame the list with his hands on the desk.

"But what I'm seeing," he looked first at Anderson, then at Udina dramatically. "What I am seeing here is only one man having that certain _tenacity _I believe we need at this point in time, for this position. It's going to be a lot of responsibility for just one man. We can afford someone who bends the rules a little, we can afford eccentricity, we can even afford looking stupid in front of the aliens, but what we absolutely _cannot _afford, is failure. Failure is not an option."

Anderson and Udina stared at him in silence, and he stared back for a silent moment.

Then he picked up the list meaningfully, as if to show it to them.

"What I am seeing here, is a man who never fails, ever. I may not always like his methods, and I have some concerns about his mental stability as a biotic, but to date he always got the job done. Every single time. That man is Shepard."

Anderson gave a small smile, knowing that his victory was now practically ensured. But Udina persisted, he would not relent easily, especially when his own candidate was being so blatantly dismissed.

"This is absurd, Admiral! Shepard is the _least_ suitable candidate for the position! And then there is the matter of allegations regarding-"

"I don't think that is really relevant to what we are discussing here," Anderson interjected quickly. "Nothing has been proven, and I believe people are considered innocent until proven guilty in any civilised court of law."

Udina glared at him with narrowed eyes.

"It has been decided," Hackett said with an air of resolved finality. "Captain Anderson, Ambassador. Dorian Shepard is our man."

Udina threw his hands up in gesture of silent disapproval.

"He's the best choice, I'm certain," Anderson approved.

Hackett gave him a sideways look.

"He better be, Anderson. He better be."

Udina sighed explosively, resigned but resentful.

"I'll make the call."


	2. Launch Phase

"Hey, Rodriguez!"

The man turned around, revealing a face partially obscured by a service armour combat helmet, a standard issue assault rifle in his hands. He noticed being filmed and made an annoyed grimace.

"The fuck you doin', man?"

"Filming for posterity, man. Just two days 'till the transfer, this is a historic occasion," came the voice from behind the camera.

"Yeah? Check this out."

The man spontaneously made some tough-looking poses with his assault rifle, complete with intricate hand gestures.

"Yeah, I'm gonna smoke these motherfuckers!"

Jenkins looked out from over his camera annoyedly.

"Hey no gang signs, Rodriguez, I don't want to have my spacetube account banned!"

Rodriguez's face immediately reverted back to the fed-up look, and he put up two middle fingers over his cradled rifle.

"Here's a gang _you_ can join, Jenkins!"

In response, Jenkins' off hand came up in the frame, reciprocating the gesture. A sudden look of fear passed over Rodriguez's face, and he quickly turned away, pretending to check his rifle. Jenkins, still filming, automatically turned around to see what caused the reaction, and came face to face with Gunnery Sergeant Ronald Heiden.

"What the fuck are you doing, Jenkins? This is a confidential operation, I don't want to see my face all over the goddamn extranet!"

Rodriguez subtly distanced himself from the scene, while Jenkins momentarily looked like some animal caught in the way of something large, bright and possessed of massive inertia.

"Uh...uh...uh...I was-"

"Give me that damn thing!"

Heiden snatched the camera angrily and smashed it under his boot, while Jenkins could only watch in horror.

"You're lucky this isn't your balls, Jenkins!" he warned darkly, giving the trashed camera a particularly hard crunch. "Of all the stupid shit you've pulled off, this probably tops it all!"

Jenkins seemed to have finally found his voice.

"Sir, I was just-"

Heiden stepped over quickly to glare at him up close.

"If I ever see you with that goddamn thing out in the field again, I'll shove it so hard up your ass you'll be taking pictures every time you open your mouth!"

In the momentary silence that followed, a badly suppressed chortle could be heard from Rodriguez in the back.

Heiden whirled around, prompting Rodriguez to straighten immediately.

"Something funny, Rodriguez?" he stepped over to glare up into his face, eyes bulging. "You feeling entertained, private?"

"No, Sir!"" Rodriguez said quickly, swallowing.

"Well you look like you're feeling entertained to me! Like you're having a real grand fucking time! I hope you're just as entertained when you're cleaning out the chemical latrines back in the base! You can really laugh your fucking ass off then, 'cause I sure know _I_ will!"

Rodriguez kept his face straight, but his jaw was clenched tight. Heiden looked back at Jenkins meaningfully.

"But don't worry," he started again in that venomous, always loud voice of his. "Jenkins here's going to _love_ helping you out, won't you, Jenkins?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Maybe he can film the whole thing and put it up on the extranet, so the _whole_ fucking galaxy can see that if nothing else, at least you two fuckstains are good at cleaning shit!"

He glared from one to the other a few moments longer, both of them standing rigidly at attention.

"Now get back to your posts, you goddamn pukes!"

After he left, Rodriguez punched Jenkins in the arm angrily.

"Thanks a lot, asshole!"

X X X

Captain David Anderson walked down the white corridor evenly, his boots making echoing noises. He turned a few corners, passed many doors under sterile lighting until he finally found those he was looking for.

He paused in front of the office, noting the plaque.

'Logistics Operations', it said.

He knocked raptly and entered without waiting for a response. And there he was, Commander Dorian Shepard, the Butcher of Torfan in all his mundane glory.

Anderson couldn't remember when was the last time he had seen the man in a suit, if ever. He looked decidedly out of place in the cramped office, amidst rows of cabinets and computer consoles, sitting behind that bureaucrat's desk. Or maybe Anderson just had trouble placing someone like Shepard in such a placid environment. But otherwise he was still the same old Dorian Shepard, his scars, his soul patch, his black flattop cut.

He rose immediately, appraising Anderson with his penetrating blue eyes.

There was something terribly cold about those eyes. Something Anderson never could point a direct finger on, but always found disturbing.

"Captain," Shepard saluted briefly, casually almost, not even showing a mild surprise.

He never did, did he? Anderson allowed himself a small smile.

"Shepard," he glanced briefly at the desk Shepard stood up from, at the small office pointedly. "I see they're keeping you busy."

Shepard's eyes didn't follow his in the appraisal of the office, he kept watching Anderson measuredly instead.

"They don't want me back in field, not for a long time at least," Shepard said stoically. "The brass still resent me what happened on the last mission."

And Torfan, too, Anderson wanted to said, but kept quiet instead. He just nodded in acknowledgement, his stare settling on Shepard again.

"And what with that inquiry from Committee of Financial Oversight, I've got finance police breathing down my neck," Shepard continued bleakly. "So I am stuck here, doing paperwork while I'm under review."

"At least you'll be able to catch a break a little," Anderson tried to stay positive.

Shepard gave him a cynical look.

"I don't_ need _a break, Captain. It's bullshit, and we both know it. They are just looking at any excuse to keep me off the field."

Anderson slowly took a seat at the edge of the desk, crossing his arms in his lap solemnly.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I can see how the Admiralty got the impression things weren't exactly by the book."

Shepard snorted in disgust.

"Maybe they should investigate the intelligence department, ask where all the drug money's disappearing to, while they're at it, or who approves black ops funding."

Anderson shook his head in resignation.

"Believe me, Shepard, I'll be the first to admit that things aren't perfect, but that's neither here nor there. Things need to settle down before you can go back in the field. You know this is just temporary, you're still N7."

Shepard sat back in his chair, slamming a thick folder shut discontentedly.

"A desk job isn't exactly my idea of an N7 career."

Anderson sighed.

"I know, I know," he could sympathize with being stuck behind a desk. "But it's better you don't do any missions until this matter's cleared up. You shouldn't have let it come to this, Shepard."

"There are some perks, at least," Shepard began in that cold, disdainful tone where you couldn't really know whether he was being serious or sarcastic. Anderson never could, at any rate. "When my new co-workers here at the office found out who I was, they stopped stealing my stationery. Or maybe that's because I threatened that guy from Complaint Processing that the next time he takes one of my digipens, I'll take his eye out with it."

Anderson just stared at him in intense silence.

"That was a joke, Captain," Shepard said after a moment. "He didn't get it either."

Anderson sighed again, glancing around the office quickly.

"Shepard, look. I know it's difficult, all this, for you. Having to sit around behind a desk while the brass decides your fate, it can't be easy. But you know as well as I do this investigation didn't come out of the blue."

Shepard gave a slow nod.

"I suppose the incident on Mindoir didn't help to sway their minds, either."

"You mean the 'incident' where you commandeered an Alliance gunship to attack a building with biotic extremists holding hostages, in the middle of a populated area, while blasting death metal from its PA system?"

"Actually, it was black metal, and it was a psych-attack tactic."

"It doesn't matter what it was!" Anderson snapped, a bit more forceful than he had intended. "It makes you look even worse to the Admiralty, and they already have a bad opinion about you!" he sighed, his tone turning to a warmer, fatherly shade. "Don't you see, Dorian? Every strange thing that you do only makes you look like an even more of a crazy back at the JMC. They already have this image of a crazed biotic on the loose, and it's not helping the other biotics in the service one bit. Especially after Torfan."

The mention of Torfan visibly upset Shepard.

"I did what had to be done," he said irately. "It was a high-risk mission, everyone knew that from the start!"

"Alright," Anderson raised his hands calmingly. "No need to get riled up over it," he exhaled again, looking down for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Look, I may have a way out of this for you."

Shepard cocked his head, leaning forward on the desk.

"I'm listening."

"You know about project Normandy, right?"

Dorian nodded curtly, prompting him to continue.

"Well, the ship is just about ready for its shakedown run to Eden Prime. They've assigned me the command."

"My congratulations, Captain," Shepard said calmly, almost off-handedly.

Anderson took a dramatic pause before continuing.

"I want you to be my XO again. I'm putting together the best crew I can, all veteran officers."

Shepard nodded slowly, his blue eyes never leaving Anderson's.

"Like who?"

"I got Pressly and Adams, both of which you know well, and both are some of the best in their fields. I got Moreau for helm."

Shepard leaned back in his chair, his gaze crossing the room idly.

"I've heard of him."

"He's one of the best damn pilots in the fleet. If anyone's fit to pilot this new ship, it's him. Doctor Chakwas as Chief Medical Officer. She's a good doctor, lots of field experience."

"She is," was all Shepard said, in that typically unreadable manner, staring at Anderson expectantly.

"I also got Lieutenant Alenko as the marine detail commander, you probably know about him? He's an L2 biotic and an engineer, great service record."

"I heard of him, yes, but we never met. A decorated man, I understand."

"One of the best, and his spotless service record makes him perfect for this. The spotlight is going to be on this launch because it's a joint turian-human operation, it's unprecedented on so many levels, so we absolutely_ cannot _have anything go wrong."

"Alenko is your man, then," Shepard said, calmly resting his hands on the desk. "But my record isn't that spotless."

Anderson exhaled energetically, dismissing with a quick hand.

"Nevermind about that now. I've known you a long time, Shepard, we both know you're damn good at what you do. I'll need reliable men on this run, men that can get the job done even if something goes wrong."

Shepard leaned forward slowly, interlacing his fingers.

"You're expecting trouble? On a shakedown run to an outskirt colony?"

"No, I'm not _expecting_ trouble," Anderson dismissed quickly. "But with a project of this calibre, you've got to be prepared for every eventuality."

Shepard stared at him sceptically.

"Look, I'm giving you a way out here, a chance to get back out in the field again. You know this is an offer you can't refuse."

Shepard studied him for a long, uncomfortable time, then leaned back in his chair slowly.

"Very well, Captain," he said at last, glancing at his desk. "I will be your First Officer."

Anderson smiled encouragingly, perhaps with some relief.

"Good, I'm glad to have you aboard, Shepard," he clapped with resolve. "Everything has been arranged already, your transfer is already on the way through. You can just pack your things and get ready for deployment. The official launch is in two days, on Friday."

Shepard scowled in suspicion, perhaps not expecting everything to happen so quickly. So smoothly, with everything pre-arranged.

"Alright, Sir, I'll be ready," then after a short pause he added, "I am looking forward to it."

"Excellent! But Shepard," Anderson stood again, a warning in his voice now. "You are going to have to cooperate. We can't afford any mistakes this time, not when so much is at stake. Turians invested just as much in Normandy as we did, and believe me when I tell you that there are detractors on both sides, just waiting for things to go bad. The last thing we need right now is you causing trouble and making a mess of things."

Shepard smiled lopsidedly, like cracking of ice.

"When have I ever let you down, Captain?"

Anderson closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep, calming breath.

"Shepard..."

"_Alright_, you know you can count on me, Captain. You know I never start anything I can't finish."

Anderson studied him with furrowed brows for a moment, as if trying to discern Shepard's intent from his face.

"Alright," he said finally, at length. "Good. Good. I'll give you a call later with all the details. It was good seeing you, Shepard."

Shepard saluted as Anderson left, leaving him alone again.

Outside, he paused in the hallway, glancing back at the door to Shepard's office.

"Don't let me down, Shepard," he said evenly. "I fought for you, hard. Just don't let me down."

X X X

Kaidan sighed with irritation.

He was going to be late. His transport was delayed again at another security checkpoint, and even though his electronic ID immediately opened the way, it still meant a delay. He was going to be late, and he _hated_ being late.

But such was life on Arcturus Station, security cameras following your every step, with military checkpoints in every major important area. And there were many of those on Arcturus Station. His omnitool beeped, an incoming call.

Joker.

Sighing, but grateful for a distraction, he activated the commlink, audio only.

"Hey, Jeff."

"Alenko! Big day today, eh?"

"Well, you're certainly in cheerful mood today," Kaidan remarked.

"It's launch day, I finally get to take this baby out for a real spin."

"Nervous?"

"Are you kidding me? There's no one out there that can fly this ship nowhere as well as I can, I've spent the majority of my life training, working for a day like this," Joker paused, and Kaidan knew it wasn't boasting, it was simply the truth. "Hell yeah, I'm nervous! But I'm loving every moment of it."

"I'm glad," Kaidan smiled softly. "How do you like the ship so far? Pretty cutting edge, right?"

"Yeah, this baby's great! Oh, before I forget, Chief Adams wants to talk to you about something when you come in, about the heatsink power conduits or something."

Kaidan frowned. Despite being a competent engineer, he was not assigned in the capacity of such on the ship. Still, Kaidan knew Adams and they often exchanged ideas in the pre-launch phase, and he didn't really mind helping to make sure the ship ran smoothly on its first run.

"I'll talk to him when I'm on board. Speaking of which, how's the crew coming?"

"Just the engineers and maintenance so far, you know, the bare bones. Others are slowly coming in too, you won't believe the security we've got up in here," he paused momentarily to say something to someone, Kaidan couldn't quite make it out. "Sorry, it's pretty hectic here right now. Listen, they told me the marine detail is on its way over, they should come aboard a little ahead of you. That Turian Spectre's on board already, too. God, he's creepy!"

"He's a Spectre, he's not supposed to be exactly fun and games."

"You can say that again," Joker's voice crackled a little as the tram car passed through a quick tunnel. "All serious business, all the time! You know what, you two'll probably get along just fine."

Kaidan rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I'm almost there, got stuck up in traffic a little."

"Alright, I'll let the Captain know you're coming. See you soon, man."

X X X

"This thing's cramped!" Corporal Hogan noted, glaring around the small compartment where they all sat in two opposite rows, next to each other.

The deep hum of mako's engines was a constant background, the jerkiness of the still stiff suspension making for a rougher ride.

"It's state of the art, don't you know," Jenkins said off-handedly, adjusting the duffel bag by his legs.

Hogan snorted, his features barely recognizable on his dark face in the low lighting of the mako.

"It's smaller than a Grizzly. Don't look no state of the art to me."

"At least it doesn't stink of sweat and vomit," Fredricks said dismissively.

"There's that," Hogan relented flatly. "You know who our CO is, Rodriguez?"

"It's Lieutenant Alenko," Jenkins butted in. "You know, that biotic everyone's been talking about? They say he's one of the best there is."

Rodriguez made an unpleasant face.

"Shit, I don't like biotics, man. They're all half-crazy, give me the creeps."

"Hey, Vojnovich," Fredricks turned to the soldier sitting to his right. "The LT's your countryman, isn't he?"

Vojnovich gave him a fed-up look.

"I'm not Russian, you moron."

"You're not?" Fredricks was genuinely surprised.

Vojnovich just sighed irately, not even bothering to say anything more.

"Guess who the XO is?" Hogan piped up. "Dorian fucking Shepard."

"Well, fuck me," Fredricks said in numb disbelief. "The fucking Butcher of Torfan. The guy's a fucking lunatic."

"Great, another biotic."

"Yeah, I heard-"

"I heard he kills people with his mind!" there was a glint of excitement in Jenkins' eyes. "With his fucking mind!"

Rodriguez shot him an irritated look.

"Yeah I'm sure he does, Jenkins, just like in a comic book."

This elicited a brief snort of amusement from Fredricks and a stormy scowl from Jenkins.

"Hey, laugh all you want, but the man's a total fucking unstoppable badass," Jenkins retorted, with an emphasizing finger. "And that's a fact!"

"I don't know, man," Rodriguez made a sour face. "With all the crazy shit I keep hearing about the guy...I'm not sure I want to meet him."

"Hey, he's N7," Fredricks said knowingly, leaning back in his seat lazily, as much as restraints would allow. "You got to be at least a _little_ crazy to be one of those guys."

"Uh, you better not let Anderson hear you, Fredricks," Jenkins warned only half-jokingly. "Not unless you want him to show you some of those crazy, special forces skills up close and personal."

There was some subdued laughter all around, then Fredricks grew serious again.

"And that's not even the worst of it, I also heard there's going to be a Spectre on board!"

The soldiers exchanged surprised looks.

"The fuck?" Rodriguez started, but was cut off by Jenkins again.

"A Spectre? Wow, I never thought I'd get to meet a real Spectre! They're totally badass! Do you know who it is?"

Fredricks shrugged.

"Some Turian, I don't know," he said off-handedly. "Between the Butcher of Torfan and a Spectre, this is going to be one hell of a shakedown."

"Amen," Rodriguez interjected again, nodding his head knowingly. "I don't like this, man. Something weird's going on, I don't like this. Why do we need a fucking Spectre on a shakedown cruise? Doesn't make any sense."

"Lot of things don't make sense to you, Rodriguez," Vojnovich supplied dryly.

"Yeah? Fuck you! You'll be eating your words when this whole deal turns into a shitstorm!"

Fredricks smirked.

"With Shepard the Knife and a Turian Spectre, it's going to be one hell of a shitstorm."

"Shit, he can't be worse than Heiden," Jenkins said sullenly.

"Aw, you're just saying that 'cause you're his favourite," Rodriguez supplied, much to the amusement of others.

Jenkins just offered a rude gesture, much to the _continued _amusement of others.

"Sounds like we're here," Hogan said, everyone feeling the Mako stopping briefly, then driving up an incline. "The Normandy."

Everyone was silent now, that strained expectation hanging thick in the air. A few moments and metallic clangs later, and everyone was unbuckling from their seats as mako's back door opened with a hiss of depressurization.

Gunnery Chief Heiden's sharp face greeted them, his hard figure backlit by the dim blue lighting of the Normandy's cargo bay.

"Alright, ladies, this is it! The big day! Move out!" he stepped aside to let the soldiers pour out briskly, all the while shouting at them. "I want to see everyone in that cargo lift in ten seconds! Ten fucking seconds! Try not to trip over your own legs as you make your way through the best damn warship in the Alliance Navy!"

He squared himself in front of them, as they were all crowded in the large cargo lift now, standing at attention. He glared at them for a moment, with those bulging eyes, and his thick moustache.

"Listen up, maggots! Lieutenant's briefing is at 1100 hours in the mess hall on deck two, until then you are at ease. This _does not_ mean you get to play little explorers around this beautiful vessel! You are confined to the crew quarters and related facilities! I do _not_ want to see you shits running around the ship and obstructing people that actually use their brain for a living! All clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" the soldiers shouted back in unison.

"Good," Heiden slammed the elevator button, prompting the door to close. "Dis-missed!"

X X X

Kaidan made his way through the crowd of engineers, technicians and early personnel, all rushing on their particular task. There was the quiet bustle of pre-launch, that all-present subdued anxiety encompassing the entire ship. Most everyone kept themselves busy with last minute preparations, even though the official launch was still hours away.

Kaidan barely had the chance to stow his things in a locker in the crew sleeping quarters when he ran into Heiden. He saluted quickly at Kaidan.

"Sir, good to see you aboard!"

"Gunny," Kaidan acknowledged curtly. "Good to see you too. How's my men?"

"They're in top form, LT, a fine complement. A little anxious, but that's marines for you, always ready to kick some ass. I've given them some free time before the briefing, give them chance to familiarize with the ship. It is a beauty, isn't it, LT?"

Kaidan glanced around appreciatively.

"It sure is. Top of the line tech. This ship is pride of the Alliance."

"I'll say, Sir. Well staffed, too, for a shakedown run. I guess turians really want to protect their investment?"

"I can't say I blame them," Kaidan said, though he knew exactly what Gunny was getting at; he shared the same doubts himself. "This project wasn't cheap for us either. They have to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"Absolutely, Sir, we wouldn't want that," Heiden agreed.

Kaidan made toward the deck stairs, he was running late as it was.

"I'll see you at briefing, Gunny."

"Sir," Heiden acknowledged.

Just as he was about to go up to the command deck, a tall figure came down.

"Lieutenant Alenko? I understand you are the Commander of the vessel's marine detail?"

A Turian in high-tech armour and white face paint stopped him, piercing green eyes. Kaidan didn't need to think hard to come to a conclusion who he was.

"Yes. And you must be the Spectre?"

The Turian's mandibles spread a bit. Kaidan had no idea what that meant.

"That sounds so ominous, the way you said it. I'm Nihlus Kryik," Kaidan half-expected him to offer a handshake, but he didn't. "I wanted to meet you, Lieutenant Alenko, I've heard so many good things about you."

"Oh, I'm just a soldier, just doing my job," Kaidan was mildly embarrassed, and a little concerned. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too."

Kaidan was somewhat uneasy. He didn't know how exactly to address him, for one. Was he technically his superior, should he address him as Sir? But he was a Spectre, for god's sake, totally outside of Alliance hierarchy.

"I understand your men are already aboard?"

"Yes, yes they are."

"Have you had the chance to talk with them yet?"

"No, uh, I barely just got here," Kaidan frowned. Was Nihlus making small talk? Seeing as how he was a Spectre, he doubted it. "Uh, I hope I'm not being too direct here, but isn't all this a bit...much?"

Nihlus just stared at him in silence.

"The full complement, I mean," Kaidan quickly added. "This is supposed to be just a routine test run, a skeleton crew would suffice. And I'm sure you're not surprised at me finding _you_ being here unusual, respectfully."

"That's a valid observation, Lieutenant. This is a very important project, for both our races," Nihlus said, studying Kaidan in that unnerving fashion only Turians were capable of. "Nothing can go wrong. Humanity has been given the chance to prove their ability to the races of the galaxy, I would think we should treat this occasion with all the importance it deserves."

"Of course, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise," Kaidan was unconvinced, but he wasn't about to argue the point with a Spectre. "Still, seems a bit unusual for a shakedown."

Nihlus watched him for a moment, his expression completely alien to Kaidan.

"Lieutenant, if and _when_ there is something about this assignment that your superiors feel you should know about, I'm sure they will let you know."

Kaidan nodded curtly, getting the hint. This was on a need-to-know basis.

"I understand."

"This is a big step for your race. I hope the humanity is ready for it," Nihlus continued, confirming to Kaidan that the Council really was concerned about their investment.

"I'm sure we are ready," Kaidan defended. "We've been for a long time now, I think we deserve this chance."

"I agree, Lieutenant. Let us hope you make the best of it," Nihlus stepped past him. "If you'll excuse me."

Kaidan didn't quite know what to think about _that_ particular encounter. He made his way up.

The marines posted as security at entrances to command deck saluted him as he passed. The Command Center wasn't as busy as the lower decks, but there was still personnel running over pre-flight data and nav routes. Chief Navigator Pressly was also there, poring over some data on the main galactic map. Kaidan saluted briefly as he passed, receiving an acknowledging nod in return.

The cockpit was almost empty, with just two Ops crewmen and Joker on the helm.

"Hey, Jeff."

Kaidan touched Joker on the shoulder companionably, then dropped into the copilot's seat.

Joker looked up from his console, half-turning to him in his chair.

"It's about damn time! I was starting to think you got sidetracked on the way over, or something. You all settled in yet?"

"Yeah, just dropped my gear off in the sleeping quarters, then came straight up here. How's things?"

Joker snorted.

"How do you think? Everyone's on edge, running last minute scans, making sure everything's running smoothly. Captain came in at about six in the morning, and Chief Adams about four hours earlier. It's hectic."

"We're running full crew?"

"Yep. Sure seems a lot of effort for a test run, don't it?"

"They say it's just a shakedown run," Kaidan said, though he sounded unconvinced himself.

Joker made a disdainful noise.

"I love the smell of bullshit in the morning," he turned in his seat to look at Kaidan meaningfully. "You don't really believe that, do you? The multiple-decorated, N7 Captain Anderson, full crew and marine detail, a Spectreaboard as an observer, the Butcher of Torfan as XO?"

Kaidan frowned thoughtfully.

"I've got to admit, it _is_ a little suspect."

"You can say that again! We've got a damn _Spectre_ on board!"

"Speaking of which, I met the said Spectre. Seems like a decent fellow, at least."

"Yeah," Joker drawled out slowly, turning back to his monitors. "Don't really want to talk about the creepy Turian guy," then he brightened up with excitement again. "Hey, you heard about Torfan? Sure you did, who hasn't?" Joker grinned, watching Kaidan from the corner of his eye as he flicked some switches. "The Butcher of Torfan. Me and some of the senior officers have started a small pool; we're betting he doesn't kill anyone on his way over here."

Kaidan grimaced tightly.

"I don't put much stock in scuttlebutt, Jeff."

"Oh, it's not just scuttlebutt, trust me. I checked some of the available data on him, and man, oh man. Just reading through it you start to understand why everyone's so damn scared of biotics. No offense."

"None taken. I don't like stereotyping, and I'm not going to judge a man before I've even met him. Things tend to get blown out of proportion, especially about Ns."

Joker made a knowing face, smiling lopsidedly.

"Sometimes the truth is worse than any fiction. Just wait 'till you hear what I've managed to dig up about what actually happened on Torfan."

Kaidan furrowed his brows.

"I thought data on that was classified?"

"Yeah, most of it is," Joker waved away, adopting a smug expression. "But you know, I got connections. So, anyway-"

"Before you say anything else," Kaidan brought a hand up. "I'd like to know if hearing this is going to make me an accomplice to something illegal."

"You'll probably get court-martialled," Joker said mockingly, prompting Kaidan to roll his eyes. "You want to hear this or not? So, you know the rough story; Shepard driving his men against Batarians, getting most of them killed and not leaving a single Batarian alive. But what I heard, is that some of the surviving Alliance soldiers have actually gone _insane_ with post-traumatic shock, and that more than a third of the Batarian force died _after_ they surrendered, courtesy of you-know-who."

Kaidan was visibly skeptical.

"I'm sure it was exaggerated? All those Batarians probably died of some indirect consequence of his actions, right? Like life support system malfunctioning."

"Actually, the way I heard it, after taking the command center, he went back through the base and personally executed everyone he could find with a big-ass knife, cut their heads off, and put them on the spiked fence in front of the building."

"Well...damn," Alenko said bleakly. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Joker nodded ominously. "You better hope you don't piss Commander Knife off, or it's game over!"

Kaidan gave him an annoyed look.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Hey, I get to spend all the time in here, sitting in this uncomfortable chair, talking to you - I'll take any chance for amusement I can."

Kaidan just shook his head, then furrowed his brows in sudden thought.

"Shouldn't he be here already, I mean being the XO and all?"

Joker shrugged off-handedly.

"He's probably busy repeatedly stabbing some junior crewman for dropping his luggage."

Kaidan made a disapproving face at him.

"Has anyone ever told you you have an overactive imagination?"

"Yeah, I hear it all the time," Joker didn't miss a beat. "It keeps me warm at night, if you know what I mean."

"Ugh, I'd rather _not_ think about it, actually," he stood again, glancing about the cockpit. "I've got to report to the Captain, then see what Chief Adams wants to see me about. And I still haven't met my men."

"Yeah, busy, busy. See you later, Kaidan."

X X X

"Officer on deck!"

"Guess who that is," Fredricks whispered quickly.

All eyes stopped and pulled away from whatever the task at hand was to stare and gape at the fabled Butcher of Torfan. A sort of abrupt pause in general movement ensued as Commander Dorian Shepard entered the CIC, utterly failing to meet everyone's morbid expectations.

He was wearing dress uniform standard for his rank, save from the armband and subtle differences in markings that designated him as N7. He carried two large travel bags, standard military black. Pausing, he frowned in mild puzzlement at the attention, scanning his eyes over the room.

"As you were," Shepard called out dismissively.

The bustle continued immediately in its subdued intensity, no one willing to make a bad first impression and get on the bad side of him.

"Commander," Navigation Officer Pressly approached and saluted smartly, obviously the only one present with prior acquaintance with Shepard. "Welcome aboard. We were waiting for you. Everything's going on schedule so far, we're keeping busy as you see. The Captain wanted me to let you know he would like to see you as soon as you're aboard."

"I need to unpack first," Shepard said pointedly.

"Of course, Commander," Pressly gave a small smile. "It's good to have you aboard, Sir."

"I have to go," Shepard gave a curt nod and made for the crew quarters.

"He doesn't _look_ like a total fucking unstoppable badass to me," Fredricks murmured, following the Commander with his narrowed eyes.

"Trust me, he is," Jenkins quickly retorted, keeping his voice low. "There's a reason everyone is scared shitless of him. He _breaks_ people!"

"He's very pale," Rodriguez noted.

The three of them were loitering outside the comm room, having just cleared up a minor confusion with security rotating shifts.

"Come on, the man's like a legend!" Jenkins continued enthusiastically. "Everybody knows what he did on Torfan."

"I don't know, I thought he'd be taller," Fredricks shrugged, underwhelmed.

"I thought he'd be more _crazy_," Rodriguez added.

But Jenkins ignored them, his imagination fuelled by the appearance of the Commander.

"Hey, who do you think'd win in a fight, Commander Shepard or the Spectre? 'Cuz Spectres are pretty badass too."

"Who cares," Fredricks dismissed.

"What exactly are you doing up here?" their commentary was interrupted by Pressly.

He looked annoyed.

The marines stood at attention immediately.

"Sir," Jenkins spoke. "We're the first underway Bridge security rotation, but we haven't been briefed yet, so we weren't sure about our stations."

Pressly scowled, he clearly didn't want to hear any of it.

"You're not on Bridge duty, you have no business being up here," Pressly said sternly. "Now get off my Bridge!"

"Yes, Sir!"

The trio replied in unison and hurried to the stairs.

X X X

The engineering was crowded, a lot more than what was standard launch procedure personnel, the massive engine core looming above spectacularly. After the little unexpected meet up with the Spectre, Kaidan decided to drop by Engineering first on his way to the Captain.

"Chief Adams," Kaidan made his way over. "You wanted to see me?"

"Lieutenant," Adams was visibly preoccupied with something. "We might have a security breach on our hands."

Kaidan stopped in his tracks.

"Tell me you're joking, Chief."

Adams shook his head wearily.

"I wish I would, Lieutenant. We have a problem, and though it's nothing major it's still suspicious. I thought you should know about this right away," Adams explained.

Kaidan nodded quickly. Being the Commander of the vessel's marine force, Kaidan was also responsible for _Normandy_'s security.

"The power supply for the main heatsink array has been fluctuating, and we can't figure out why," he began immediately, frowning at Kaidan. "It shouldn't be doing that, and I don't have to tell you how important those systems are."

Kaidan followed him to one of the control terminals, where Adams pulled up a diagnostics report. He showed Kaidan the relevant readouts.

"The current flow from the dedicated converter is fluctuating way out of the norm. Look at this here, that curve is all wrong."

Kaidan scoffed.

"You're right, Chief, it shouldn't be doing this. You did the low level check on the junction switch OS?"

He already activated his omnitool to connect with the terminal.

"The software's fine."

"Maybe there's something wrong with sensors themselves?"

"Calibrated properly," Adams shook his head. "We went through the standard check routine, and then some. Whatever's causing this, it's been a mystery so far, and let me tell you, I can't remember when was the last time a piece of equipment was giving me this much trouble."

Kaidan tapped on his omnitool's virtual keyboard, frowning at it.

"It's a small deviation, but it still shouldn't be there at all. The Captain knows about this?"

"I let him know first thing. He says he doesn't want to delay the launch if at all possible, but we're not taking off until he gets an all clear from me."

Kaidan's brows were knit together in perplexion.

"You said something about a security breach?"

Adams lowered his voice instinctively.

"Yes, I'm not too convinced this is a bug in the system. We ran many complete tests over the heatsink system, over the entire system, software and hardware checks, every day for the past week, I personally oversaw each one. We had some minor issues, but this, _this_ never came up once. And now, on the last day, during the last minute routine system diagnostic we come across this? It's mighty big of a coincidence, isn't it?"

Kaidan's brows shot up.

"You think it could be sabotage?"

Adams looked troubled.

"I doubt it, but we shouldn't rule that possibility out."

Kaidan exhaled pensively, shutting off his omnitool interface. Adams looked worried as well, both enveloped in unpleasant thoughts.

"Chief," the Adams' personal radio cut the silence, Adams quickly responding.

"Adams. What do you have, Lind?"

"Sir, we found something. In transformer cabinet here in sublevel four, main power line."

Adams exchanged a meaningful look with Kaidan.

"We'll be right down."

Kaidan scoffed at the small plastic box. It was clear, so he could plainly see the small, innocuous-looking element that rattled around it as he turned the box to get a better look. It was black, flat and had bent pins from where the technicians had removed it.

It was a parasitic element, and just looking at it made the Lieutenant deeply concerned.

"That thing's been disrupting power going out of this cabinet, causing the heatsinks power supply to go haywire," Ensign Lind provided, scratching at his chin absently. "We barely caught it in there, somebody went to a lot of trouble in making it look just like another standard component in the circuitry."

"But it's not, is it?" Kaidan said rhetorically, still scowling.

"No, Sir," Lind shook his head.

"You bet your sweet bippy it's not," Adams said with a hint of irritation, taking the box with the offending component form Kaidan.

He glared at it resentfully.

"This little thing's been causing us so much trouble. I can tell you right now there is no way this was there yesterday, Lieutenant."

"Or maybe it was, and just wasn't activated before," Kaidan speculated, the possibilities darkening his thoughts further. "Maybe it's been doing more than just disrupting the power flow? Maybe it's been sending data out?"

Adams looked at him briefly, then reverted back to staring at the box.

"It's possible. We need to do a full micro-analysis to make sure, but whatever it was doing, somebody put it there to either hinder us, or spy on us."

"Or both," Kaidan finished ominously. "This is getting more disturbing by the minute. Somebody had to get through all the security, past all the engineers, down the maintenance tunnels, and take some time to put this here."

The men exchanged uneasy glances, everyone thinking the same thing, but nobody willing to vocalize it.

This was an inside job.

"Captain needs to know about this, right away," Kaidan declared firmly. "Chief, I want you to put this thing through every analyser and microscanner we've got on board. We're not going anywhere until I know _exactly_ what this chip is and what it does."

"Right away, Lieutenant," Adams nodded in acknowledgement.

They were walking back to the ladder to the main engineering deck now, one at a time because of the narrowness of the passage.

"Let me know as soon as you got something," Kaidan grabbed the first rung of the steel ladder resolutely. "I'll be in the Captain's office."

He pulled himself up, his mind working systematically on many possibilities this new discovery opened, one worse than the other. Things just got a lot more complicated.

X X X

"At ease, Lieutenant," Anderson was poring over some data on his monitor, looking up to appraise Kaidan quickly. "You're late."

Kaidan saluted.

He was always impressed by Captain Anderson, even if he did not know him well at all. The man practically exuded credibility and integrity, a model leader if there ever was one.

"I apologise, Captain, I was stuck in traffic. The tram lines are really busy this morning."

Anderson sighed, motioning for him to take a seat.

"I know. The launch has the whole station up on overdrive. Your squad's already aboard too, I understand?"

"Yes, Sir, they are. I yet have to brief them," he paused a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Captain, I've just been down in the Engineering with Adams."

Anderson paused, turning away from his data, giving Kaidan his undivided attention. He knew what this was about.

"And?"

"Captain, we have a problem. Adams' men found a parasitic device in power supply circuitry, and it could possibly be a bug. The only thing we know so far is that it was disrupting power flow, and _could_ be sending or receiving outside data."

Anderson leaned back in his chair heavily, thinking. His left hand was up, elbow resting on the armrest of his chair, fingers clenching and unclenching in silence. Kaidan watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak.

"There are jammers on board," Anderson said finally, his voice quiet and controlled. "Firewalls against exactly this kind of thing."

Kaidan sighed explosively, shifting in his chair.

"There are, Sir, but...there's no such thing as a one-hundred percent protection."

Anderson studied him piercingly.

"But you're not sure it's a bug?"

"No, Sir, Adams is looking into it. I told him to let me know as soon as he analyses the thing. Shouldn't take long."

Anderson brought his hand down on the table, his lines creasing with deep concern.

"This is the last thing I need right now. If the launch is delayed further the Command will have a fit. The Turians are already looking for any excuse to deem this a failed project and blame it all on us. The Council's full attention is on this project."

"But this_ isn't_ our fault, Sir," Kaidan insisted, frustrated. "Somebody obviously planted this thing, and from the way it looks like it was somebody on the inside."

Anderson scowled sharply.

"One of the crew, you mean?" he leaned forward on the table heavily, over his interlaced hands. "So whoever planted the bug could be still aboard."

"Could be one of the station's security crew," Kaidan speculated. "They handled the security duties before the ship was fully staffed."

"That doesn't explain how they got into engineering," Anderson countered, and he was right.

The engineering almost always had some staff in rotation doing tests and final calibrations, it would look very suspicious for a security staff member to linger around.

"And everything's logged with the security cameras anyway," Anderson finished.

"Sir, the engineers and technicians are constantly doing something in the maintenance tunnels, changing and adjusting components and systems, especially now in the pre-launch phase. Everything should be logged, but we'd have to review every engineer and technician, if not every crew member, of where they were and what they did in the past two weeks."

"Out of the question," Anderson dismissed immediately. "We don't have the time for that. And as much as I don't like this, we can't risk delaying the launch because of it. The ship's working fine now?"

"Yes, Sir," Kaidan confirmed reluctantly. "But-"

"Alenko, I'd like to come to the bottom of this as much you do, but Command is breathing down my neck as it is. If there's no immediate threat to the _Normandy_, we're launching on schedule. I don't like it any more than you do, but we can't afford any mistakes right now. We'll investigate what exactly happened once we're underway, and if we find whomever's responsible still aboard, we'll take appropriate measures. Right now, my main concern is to have the ship operational and at full capacity for the launch."

"I understand, Sir."

"Good," Anderson paused, as if carefully preparing what he was going to say next. "By now, you must know we're taking a turian advisor on board. A Spectre."

"Yes, Sir. I actually met him briefly before."

Anderson leaned back in his seat, keeping his hands on the table.

"You did? Good. There's been rumours going around that this shakedown isn't what it looks like, that Spectre isn't here just as an advisor."

"Sir, I don't listen to rumours," Kaidan refrained from voicing his own doubts about the mission. "There's always some rumour or other going around, especially with a project this important."

Anderson studied him carefully, piercing, searching eyes.

"That's good, Alenko. I want my officers to have a clear head. A rational perspective on things," he paused again. "You must also know by now who our XO is."

"Yes, Sir. Commander Dorian Shepard."

"Alenko, I'll be direct. I'm not going to pretend I don't know what people talk about him, and what people who've never met him think he's like. Most of the crew has already made up their minds on him, and that's fine by me, and I doubt Commander really cares one way or the other. He has a reputation as a very brutal man, and most of that reputation is well justified. He is also very good at what he does. But I won't stand for any unprofessionalism. People can think whatever they want in their free time, but when they're on duty on my ship, I expect them to act like Alliance soldiers."

"You'll get no argument from me there, Sir. I'll make sure the men give him proper respect."

"He's earned it, Alenko. The reason I'm telling you all this is because you're a biotic yourself. No matter what is speculated about Commander, he _is_ stable. He has full control over his implant."

Kaidan nodded comprehensively.

"Sir. I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of bad press because you're a biotic. People fear you. Every little thing you do gets scrutinized, a lot more than if you were just a regular soldier. Most of the time it's justified, but sometimes it's not."

"I wish more people had your perspective," Anderson said earnestly.

"Thank you, Sir."

Anderson rose, prompting Kaidan to do the same quickly. "That's all, Lieutenant. Keep me updated on that tracking device situation."

"Will do, Sir," Kaidan saluted again.

He almost bumped into someone on his way out, needing a moment to realize who it was. He had read and heard so much about the man, but only once saw his picture, and even that briefly and in low quality.

Now having the chance to study the man in person and up close, he didn't know what to think. Shepard looked scarcely out of ordinary, but his gaze was steel. There was a definite air of danger about him, that particular intangible quality that clung to some people, like an aura of warning. There was another kind of air about him as well, the kind that could only be recognizable to a fellow biotic.

Kaidan had worked with Special Forces before. He used to know a guy, an N6, one hell of a nasty individual. His name was Rupert something, he never really could remember the guy's last name. He was short, thin and otherwise looked completely unassuming.

Kadian wasn't fooled.

He knew there was a reason why he looked so average, why practically every N member did. The Special Forces purposely picked people that were unassuming and didn't stand out, people that could easily disappear in a crowd, disappear in an empty room.

He had learned long ago that in his line of work, judging a book by its cover was the first, and possibly the last mistake you would ever make.

An abrupt and unexpected thought had him trying to imagine the man before him cutting a Batarian's head off. Kaidan quickly dismissed the inappropriate thought, berating himself mentally.

He saluted quickly.

"Sir."

Shepard appraised him measuredly, coldly, and without saying anything.

"Shepard," Anderson approached. "This is Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. He's in charge of our marine detail."

"I know," Shepard said finally, his voice not really hostile, but far from friendly.

He studied Kaidan intently, to the point of making him uneasy.

"Well Shepard, come in," Anderson broke the awkward moment, indicating for the Commander to enter. "We have a couple of things to sort through."

Kaidan saluted again.

"Sirs."

The door slid shut.


End file.
